Quotes About Grief

Even after she disappeared, it did not settle at once, but continued to make waves and produced a trickling, rustling sound that Shmuel hoped would not die away too soon.

So the man was sad! Of course, he was in mourning. He had just lost his wife, what — a few months ago? What a luxury, she thought enviously, that he could mourn his loss like this when her husband had disappeared. She would have liked to give up on life and cry until she was empty of tears; instead she had to brave a refugee camp, a new country, and now a whole new language.

As hard as it is, grieving can be a gift, if we use it to examine our own lives and come closer to those we love.

When my mother died, my father's early widowhood gave him social cachet he would not have had if they had divorced. He was a bigger catch for the sorrow attached.

I was with a girlfriend of mine last night and we were talking about David Foster Wallace. It's been three years since he killed himself, I said. And she said, Yep. Waited a beat. And he's still dead.

Whatever the motivation factor, the specific ratio of grief to cruelty is immaterial. i left Ray, without warning, as he slept. Out of sight isn't out of mind but it's out of the line of vision, which is something. Because you can keep quite busy like this. Moving forward.

Death demands its own designated punctuation mark. Maybe: ______ died/ It is a dividing line / everything on this side is different.

When Death laughs, no one else does

That is the saddest part when you lose someone you love - that person keeps changing. And later you wonder, Is this the same person I lost? Maybe you lost more maybe less, then thousand different things that come from your memory or imagination - and you do not know which is which, which was true, which is false.

Seeing her this last time, I threw myself on her body. And she opened her eyes slowly. I was not scared. I knew she could see me and what she had finally done. So i shut her eyes with my fingers and told her with my heart: I cah see the truth, too. I am strong, too.

Even though I did not understand her entire story, I understood her grief.

Even though I did not understand her entire story, I understood her grief. In one small moment we had both lost the world, and there was no way to get it back.

I once thought love was supposed to be nothing but bliss. I now know it is also worry and grief, hope and trust.

That is the saddest part when you lose someone you love—that person keeps changing. And later you wonder, Is this the same person I lost? Maybe you lost more, maybe less, ten thousand different things that come from your memory or imagination—and you do not know which is which, which was true, which is false.

I feed myself with the old grief.

Grief is when your eyes still see but have stopped looking.

I wept because from now on I will weep less. I wept because I have lost my pain and I am not yet accustomed to its absence.

If you needed anything, all you had to do was say, 'Mom, I need this,' and my mom would be at my house with it," she says, crying. "And now it's like, if I need something, who do I call?

There is no good that comes from the storm, no silver lining, no Hollywood ending. Death descends. Lives are lost.

I've often thought of loss as a kind of language. Once learned, it's never forgotten. I learned the language of loss when I was ten, and still know it to this day. There have been times when I wished I had a scar or a mark, a visible sign of the pain I still feel over Daddy's death and Carter's. It would be easier, in a way, if people knew without my having to say anything that I am not whole, that part of me died long ago.

My eyes filled with tears and I wept long and hard, unable, and unwilling, to stop.

On dit souvent que la mort est 'ne libiration. Pour les morts, naturellement, passque en fait pour ceux qui restent, c'est presque toujours un grandissime tracassin.

To live in the hearts of those we leave behind is not to die. Thomas Campbell 1777-1844 Inscription on the gates of Kensington Palace in the days of mourning before the funeral of Diana, Princess of Wales

Nor can we see the coffin of a person we have known, without experiencing some new shock of loss. In this respect, a coffin is like a mirror, in which we see the image of our own condition, and understand that our human differences, whether of appearance, morality or wealth, must finally be reconciled.